In Charge
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: In which Steph and Paul fight over who's most dominate in their relationship through long, drawn out conversations. Because they're adults. And they behave that way. Except for when they don't. - One-shot.


It was actually kind of cold out and, had he not needed to stop off at the gas station anyways, Paul probably would have just driven straight on, but he did and, since he was out in the frigid air anyways…

The gas station was empty and other than the clerk inside the convince store, the place was deserted. After filling his car up (and bouncing around a bit to fight of the cold), he walked across the vacant parking lot and over to the payphone that adorned the brick facade of the store. From his pocket he produced a few quarters and, after shoving them in, dialed the number he was beginning to learn by heart.

"Hello?" came the muffled sound from the receiver and even though a particularly frosty blast blew by then, a bright grin came over his usually sullen ace.

"Steph," he practically sang in what probably sounded creepy, considering the timber of his voice, but he meant it to be inciting. "Guess who's less than an hour away from your place?"

There was a bit of shuffling then before, in a slightly more aware voice, she asked, "Paul?"

"Who else?" he asked as his smile fell. Not because of anything she said though, but he swore he could smell rain in the air and, as cold as it felt, possibly something a bit harsher. Tugging at the collar of his jacket with his free hand, he said, "So I'll get there around midnight, maybe later. Cool? You can just get up now, if you want, and, you know, make me dinner or something."

"Paul-"

"Or just unlock the door, I guess, but-"

"Paul, okay," she cut him off with what sounded like a bit of a quiver as well as some serious nasal action going on. "I'll-"

"Stephanie, are you alright?" he asked as his focus turned from the act he was freezing to death and onto his girlfriend. "Are you...crying?"

It was with an extended sniffling up of her snot that almost made Paul do the ol' hangup, breakup and also told the man that her next words were completely false.

"No," came the dreary whine.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm fine."

"Steph-"

"I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"Noth-"

"Stephanie," he said. "What happened?"

"It's just… Shane and I...talked."

"Oh." Coughing a bit, he shifted from looking down the road at the abandoned car wash and instead onto the other side of the gas station, where there was only a vacant lot. "Did you guys have a, you know, uh, fight?"

"Kind of."

"And he upset you?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm coming over," he decided then with an air of intensity. "Alright? I'll be there soon."

"It's not that big of a deal. It's just-"

"I'll see you then."

The car ride was a lot less jovial then, but Paul was still able to zone a bit from the monotony of the last stretches of highway he had until he got to Steph's place. The CD he had in saw to that, anyways.

Stephanie's home was dark when he got in, so he figured she'd gone back to bed after they'd hung up the phone. Which was fine, honestly, as if she wasn't still all weepy and shit when he got to the bedroom, he was ready to put whatever was going on with her and Shane. The longer he could stay out off the McMahon family behind the scenes frays, the better.

She'd unlocked the front door for him at least, Paul found, upon approaching the house. He was whistling, softly, in time with the song he'd had to leave behind when he got out of the car , and slung his bag down on the couch in the living room when he passed it. Continuing on through the dark house, his whistling died down a bit as he feared awakening Steph once more. While part of him would rather she were awake and at least somewhat interested in him, a stronger part of him had just drive for five straight hours and wanted to conk out for a bit.

When he first came in and saw her curled up under her blankets, he thought the decision had been made for him.

A loud sniffle and question of his name was what told him that, while it had been decided for it, the opposite of what he thought was far more true.

"Hey, baby," he sighed, taking a moment out to drop his jeans and tug his shirt over his heads. "You gonna come out from under there or do I gotta go in there?"

Slowly, she shifted to sit up and tug the blankets and sheets from over her face. Even in the dark, Paul got enough moonlight from the cracked blinds to see how puffy Stephanie's eyes were red and puffy as well as her cheeks being tear stained and ugh.

Why didn't he persevere for New Hampshire, where his own home waited for him and him alone to do whatever the heck he wanted, no Steph, no drama, just the perfection that is solitude?

Steph, without a word, tugging her nightgown over her head, reminded him why not.

It was only once they were under the cover of her thick comforter, her thumb ghosting over a pretty gnarly bruise he'd gotten on his side the previous week in the ring while his, instead, focused on rubbing gently at each of her eyes.

"Can't get it up, you know," he said with a frown, "you sobbing and all."

"I'm not sobbing."

"You're pretty clearly choked up. Be kinda weird, wouldn't it?" Making a bit of a face, he said, "Masterfully giving you the best experience of your life while you're so upset?"

"Is that what you were planning on doing?"

"It's what I'm always planning on doing."

And that, finally, got her to giggle a bit and, with a grin, he said, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she insisted as one arm moved to come up and wrap around his neck. It was awkward, at first, but then he gave into her tugging and they cuddled a bit closer. "I just get this way sometimes. When I get upset."

"What got you so upset?"

"Nothing." That time, she sniffled a bit and that was kinda gross, but being around a weepy woman was a bit gross too, so he endured for Steph's sake. "Just… Shane was so upset with me tonight, on the phone, and-"

"But about what?"

"Nothing. Just..."

"He wasn't yelling at you about us again, was he?"

"No." And she said that quickly, taking his tone into account. "And he didn't yell. I just… I don't want to talk about it."

Which was actually perfect for Paul, as he rarely wanted to talk about anything.

"Okay." Running his hand down her back, he managed a grin, which was returned, before whispering, "Steph."

They didn't stay in her room the entire night as, though it was late and they probably both needed to finally go to bed, Steph wanted to make him something to eat and, well, his stomach was more than willing to oblige.

That's how it happened. How it truly all came out. As Paul sat there on one side of the couch, splitting his attention between his thrown together sandwiches and the faucet that had suddenly been loosened on his girlfriend's mouth, Steph told him all about how horrible her brother was and her father too, for some reason, but mostly just Shane and wasn't he an ass? Did Paul think so?

"He'll be my boss one day, babe," he reminded when she seemed to really want to get him to agree on that point. "So yes. Of course he is."

With a shake of her head, Stephanie said, "He just always treats me like I'm stupid or something. We're not different. He might be older than me, but I'm not an idiot because of that. He's always been like this and I hate it. I hate him."

"Steph-"

"I'm not serious," she assured him, as if he could have honestly suspected it to be true. "I'm just…venting. I love Shane, but I get tired of it."

When she fell silent, Paul internally sighed before asking, "It?"

"The way he treats me. I'm not just his little sister anymore. I'm part of the company too."

"Of course you are."

"He wouldn't call and bitch at someone else, would he?"

"Nope."

"Are you just agreeing with me? Or are you listening?"

That time he cut his eyes at her a bit. "I'm not just your boyfriend, Steph. I'm part of the company too. I can have opinions on-"

"Shut up."

"I'm listening to ya." He shifted a bit to set his by then empty plate on the coffee table before relaxing more, into the couch. "Even when I'm not listening, I'm listening to ya."

It wasn't over though. The entirety of it. Because even though talking through it had helped Stephanie get over it, Paul was still pretty pissy about the whole thing. For multiple reasons. It had, obviously, put a pretty big damper on what was supposed to be a chill, late night with Steph, but more importantly than that, no matter how she tried to explain it away, Paul could tell that whatever had gone on with her brother had really upset the woman. She'd explained it to him that evening, even tried to explain it away in certain ways, but at the same time, for some reason, Shane still thought it was okay to do that. To upset her like that. Over bullshit. Like they were kids or something.

And that's what really pissed him off.

Because they weren't kids. Steph was, fine, still his sister, but that was rather secondary to all the other things in her life currently. Mostly the business aspect, but even outside of that, she was his now. Paul's. Hunter's. Whatever. And Shane wasn't allowed to do that kind of shit anymore.

No one was.

So he more or less planned it, running into Shane. Not the arena, that week, because that would be an asshole thing and, obviously, personal affects were always meant to stay out of the workplace. It wasn't hard, anyways, to run into the guy. He and Steph's rooms were far from one another at the hotel and, before heading out to the gym that day, he pressed his luck to see if the guy was around.

"Hey," was how the other guy greeted him upon opening up his door. It was with a bit of shock in his tone though. "Uh, Hunter. Something up?"

Shane was taking steps backwards to allow him to enter without even putting much thought into it, which was about the same for Paul as he stepped forwards.

"If it's about Vince," the other guy went on, but Paul only shook his head.

"It's not," he assured him. "It's...not about work at all."

Honestly, Paul wasn't even too sure what he wanted to say. Which is why he hadn't just gotten it out yet. He knew what he wanted to get across to the other guy, but at the same time, didn't know how to put all that into words.

Hunter was good with words. Hunter was good with cutting insults and saying what he felt. His anger burned eternal and he took no prisoners.

Paul wasn't Hunter. He played Hunter. He could put on as Hunter. But at the end of it all, Paul was Paul. And even though he could, he didn't want to play Hunter in that moment. He wanted to be Paul, who was dating nice and sweet and too meek for her own good (at least in his slanted point of view) Stephanie, instead of Hunter who was married to the devil incarnate and probably would have spinebusted Shane to smithereens by now. Hunter could decimate his brother-in-law, but Paul had to be smart and figure a way to get along with his girlfriend's brother.

And while he considered himself fairly intelligent and liked puzzles well enough, Paul was still struggling to figure the McMahons out. They all fit together, that went without a doubt, but the way in which they were able to do so was beyond him. He'd only been truly entangled with them for a short amount of time, but in that period he'd struggled to even get on steady ground with them all. Even Linda was a challenge in some ways.

Yet here he was, further involving himself int hings that, conceivably, he could just stay out of. Maybe he even should stay out of. But he just wasn't like that. He hadn't liked what Shane had done to Steph, calling her just to stress her out for, in his mind, no reason, and that meant he had to say something. They had all come to the agreement that he and Stephanie's relationship wasn't relevant to the business and that was fine. That was perfect. It was what he wanted. But at the same time, the reverse was true. Whatever he did in that relationship couldn't effect the business. Which, yes, he knew wasn't perfect and was nearly convinced that, should he do something terrible to Stephanie, even something minor, really, compared to the way most guys in the business handled their relationships, he'd find his ass handed to him and contract not standing a chance of getting renewed.

But in all other regards, he shouldn't be penalized, right? There shouldn't be a negative action taken against him if what he was doing was in the context off a normal relationship, be it 'after hours', right? And if he was making his sister cry, he was sure that things would be at least a bit toasty between he and her husband. And, fine, Paul wasn't Steph's husband, the topic hadn't even come up and was nowhere near in play, but he did feel a pretty strong connection to her. He wouldn't have ventured into the shit train that was everything slowly being drug into the light if he didn't, at the very least, feel like he and Stephanie were...were…

And if they were...then there was no way that he was going to let Shane treat her that way.

"Oh," Shane was saying then as, after shutting the door he was rather slow to turn around. He did raise an eyebrow though, once the pair were facing one another. "Uh, well, what's going on?"

"It's Steph."

And his eyebrows dropped then, Shane's did, and he even frowned a bit. Still, rubbing at the back of his neck, he said, "I'm a bit busy, right now. I just got off the phone with my wife and I still have to-"

"It's only-"

"If you guys are...fighting, or whatever, I'm really not interested in-"

"It doesn't have anything to do with us."

They were both just standing there then, watching one another carefully. While the two had never been 'close' before the whole saga began, Vince knew that Hunter was tight with Vince and that was enough for him to mark him down as an okay guy. And Paul wasn't stupid. Shane was, without a doubt, the heir to the throne, as it were, and that meant that he should probably stick around on his good side. He didn't think Vince was going anywhere anytime soon and, while he didn't see himself as sticking around forever, should the transfer happen while he was around, he wanted to be on Shane's good side.

And he had been.

Before.

He'd been on a bunch of people's good sides then.

But once you're walking alone anyways, you might as well go for broke, he figured as, before Shane was able to speak again, Paul decided to first.

"It's about you and her," he said, his hands slipping into his pockets as he rocked on his feet some, clearly uncomfortable. "And...the other night."

Shane looked confused for a moment, but only one as just as quickly he was glaring a bit

And it was just a shit situation. The whole thing. And he knew that. Paul knew that. But when Stephanie had been telling him all about it and, even before that, when he'd called and heard how upset she was, he knew he had to do something. And that something, as it was turning out, was making sure it didn't happen again. Which meant…probably the most awkward scenario possible.

Which was what they were in at the moment. Because it was awkward, on many levels. Maybe even a bit inappropriate. But mostly just awkward, yeah. Super awkward.

They'd reached the pinnacle then though and, either to alleviate some of the gaucheness or perhaps from his anger over the situation, Shane kind of laughed a bit, looking off.

"You can't be serious," was all he said for a moment. "You can't. Hunter-"

"Paul."

And that got him to look him in the eyes then, but Shane could still only shake his head.

"Paul," the other man said with the air of bitterness to it. "Did Steph tell you to do this?"

"No." And she hadn't. "Steph doesn't tell me to do shit. But Steph does tell me things. And-"

"If you think," Shane interrupted, "that you in _anyway_ have the right to tell me-"

"Not to be a dick to your sister? Yeah, I do. So stop being a dick to your sister."

"You don't know anything."

"I know you made her cry, Shane."

"You're full of-"

"I'm not." He was, however, full of that kind of adrenaline that you get from nerves. He and Shane weren't going to get into a fist fight or anything, but he did feel a bit jacked. "And you're not going to do it again. You're-"

"Don't you ever tell me what to do in any situation, ever again, but especially when it comes to Steph." Shane stepped towards him a bit while Paul didn't move in the slightest. "She's my sister. Whatever the fuck you two idiots have going on? That's gonna be over eventually. But I'm always gonna be her brother."

Paul swallowed then, thinking as he knew he had to be careful of what he said, but at he same time not wanting to be. His intention hadn't been to start an argument with Shane.

"You always gonna make her feel like shit too?"

And that was it. Then tension had bubbled over and Shane told him, "Leave. Now," but Paul was headed that ways anyways and that was it. It was over.

And even though he didn't think things went over smoothly, he was sure that he wouldn't find Stephanie sobbing over her damn brother again. And sure, maybe his entire future with the company had just been destroyed, but to be honest, if Vince was gone and Shane was in charge, the majority of the world was probably dead because only his death was getting Vince out of his position and only some sort of horrific worldwide destructive force could kill that man.

The rush he got from it all though was put to good use at the gym and even carried over in someways to work that day. He was a bit wiry and in a better mood than he expected. Shane hadn't approached him at all, one on one, and though there had been some glances in passing, they went through the night without a hitch.

Paul was starting to think that it was all over. Until, well, he was coming out of the locker room and someone shoved.

"Steph, what the fuck?"

"What did you say to my brother?"

She was standing before him then, clearly pissed off, and oh shit, it never occurred to him that Shane would go to her. Never once. He was worried about Vince or some of the other guys, but it never once occurred to him to be concerned about the one other person the conversation affected the most.

Maybe that was part of the problem…

"Stephanie." She'd hit his chest, but he refused to rub at it then. He felt a little ridiculous, honestly, anyways, standing there in his gear, being berated by her. On camera, sure, no worries, but like this? It felt too revealing… He glanced around a bit before, harshly, whispering, "Later. This is-"

"Now."

"I have a match in-"

"You are _never_ to talk to my brother about anything like that ever again." She was looking him dead in the eyes and Paul knew better than to look away. "Understand?"

He wanted to argue. He knew he would argue, eventually, but at the moment, he couldn't.

While the fight with Shane had pumped him up, the thought of going through the same with Steph later did absolutely nothing but put the fear of God in him.

They traveled to the next town together, but not by themselves. He really hoped her iciness was only apparent to him.

It was, after all, where it was intentionally directed.

He was tired when they got to the hotel and really wished that he didn't have to face the music, but what could you do?

Steph let him have it too. Things had been left to boil and not a single ounce simmered. She was pissed. She kept hammering on him that he'd really upset Shane and that was over the line and why couldn't he just stay out of things?

"Because," he grumbled after the third time she stressed this, "you're the one that put me in it."

"I did not."

She was standing before him while Paul sat on the end of the bed. He had been taking his boots off, but had been stopped so many times that he hadn't even gotten one off yet.

"Yes, you did." And he was quite insistent on that. "You were the one that told me about how he yelled at you-"

"I didn't say yell. You kept saying yell-"

"-and about how he insulted you and it made you upset and-"

"That was me talking, Paul."

"After crying, yeah, it was."

"I don't tell you things," she complained then, arms folded over her chest, "so that you can go mess with them. Fix them. Whatever stupid thing you were trying to do. I tell you them because I want you to listen to me. And I definitely don't want you fighting with my family."

"I'm not fighting with anyone." Finally finished untying them, he began to tug his boots off. "At all. You came to me with a problem. I fixed the problem. There's nothing else to say about it. If Shane has an issue with me, he had the chance to solve it."

"You're so stupid."

"Oh, I'm stupid?"

"Yes."

"For defending you? For-"

"It wasn't even an issue anymore!"

"It was to me." He stood then and visually this alone cause Steph to lose so much of her power."But Glaring down at her then, he said, "And let's get something straight, Steph. I let you go on your little tangent, now you're going to listen to mine. We're in a relationship now. Understand?"

"But you're not-"

"And that means that if something's bothering you, it's bothering me," he went on. "And I don't let things bother me. I solve them. Shane was giving you shit, so I solved it. That's how this goes. I am in charge of this."

Steph was still trying to stare him down, but it wasn't working out so well anymore. Still, she asked, "in charge of what?"

"Us. Our relationship."

"You are not-"

"I am, Stephanie," he said with a frown. "I am in every relationship I'm in. That's just it. That's part of it. We're in this together, yeah, but there's always someone who's over the other. And that's me. You know that. I take care of things. For the both of us. If you tell me or show me that you're upset about something, I deal with it. I don't give a fuck if it's your brother, father, or anyone else. If that bothers you all of a sudden, maybe it's you that needs to think about this relationship. Not me."

She didn't respond at first and, thinking he'd 'won', Paul walked passed her to head into the bathroom. It was once his back was to her thought that she spoke.

"So I'm just not supposed to tell you things now? Is that it?" she asked as she turned to look after him. "Because you'll cause a big dramatic fight over it for no reason? Because maybe I do need to think about our relationship then."

"Maybe, Steph." He shut the door to the bathroom behind him. "Maybe."

He showered longer than he usually would at that time of night as, honestly, he'd usually want to be in bed by then. The longer he stayed in there though, the longer he had to play back the whole thing in his head. When he first went to talk to Shane, it hadn't been with the intention to cause so many problems. Honestly, after having Steph blow up on him, he wasn't even sure if he gave a shit if she cried or not about it. Let her dumb ass get all upset over dumb shit and just keep him out of it.

Yeah.

That was the solution.

Well, it wasn't, of course, but in that moment, it justified all the annoyance he was having.

Stephanie was already in bed when he came back out and, not even flicking on a light, he collapsed into it as well, careful to stay far away from her.

Sometime after sunrise, he woke up from the sound of Stephanie talking on the room's phone to someone. He laid there for a good bit of time, half listening to her end of the conversation, half falling back into unconsciousness, but eventually he turned his head from being pressed so heavily into the pillow and looked to her.

She was still on the phone, but was staring down at him then, still talking, but now seeming more focused on him. Neither smiled at the other nor moved any closer, but the tension had definitely fled during the early morning and though the pair certainly weren't feeling remorseful on either of their stances, they were far better off than they were.

When Stephanie finally hung up, she only moved to slink back down into bed beside him, both lying on their sides, watching one another closely.

Softly, she spoke first as she said, "I like you a lot, Paul."

"I know."

"I like this a lot."

He knew what she meant expansion. This. Them. The moment. When they were alone and not worried about anything else.

It really was when they were at their best.

"But I don't like you fighting with Shane. At all."

"We weren't fighting."

"That's what he said."

"'Well, this is what I'm saying."

"Stop."

"Stop what? I'm not doing-"

"You're not going to pit me against the two of you." She made a face at the thought. "Seriously, Paul, you're not. If you did, you wouldn't like the outcome."

"I'm not trying to."

"It sure feels like it."

"Steph, it's not even about that." He pushed up a bit then, shaking his head. "It's… I don't like seeing you upset. At all. Especially from nonsense. Shane and you arguing over the phone at night is nonsense. And it just pissed me off that he did that. That he made you that upset. That-"

"Does it piss you off when you do that?"

Frowning, he asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Almost every time we argue, I get upset like that."

"You crying?"

"I wasn't crying."

"Steph-"

"Fine. Whatever. Yes, crying, if htat's what you want to call it."

"Well, that's what it was."

"But you do it too," she kept up. When he looked doubtful, she said, "Everyone does. That's how I, you know, decompress."

"By crying?"

"Paul-"

"I call bullshit."

"On the crying thing? So do I. I was, at best, disorientationally emotional-"

"I-" And he stopped, just to make a face, before saying, "Stephanie, shut the fuck up."

"That's what I call it."

"I call bull," he forged ahead, "on the fact that you cry in attempts to apparently decompress for whatever stupid reason. Frequently, the way you're saying it. No way you do that. How? I'm around you-"

"I clearly don't do it when you're, like, lying in bed next to me," she complained. "I do it when I'm alone. Which I planned to be, that night, but you had to call and I was in the middle of-"

"Sobbing your heart out?"

"Decompressing."

"When do I make you cry?" And his tone was different then, perhaps a bit more serious, as he shifted slowly closer to her. "Stephie? That often?"

"It's not that big of-"

"Do I?" When she wouldn't answer, he reached a hand out. Cupping her cheek, he added, "Huh?"

"Not as much anymore, really," she confided as he only frowned. "We don't fight like...like we were for awhile, before everyone… It's not that big of a deal though. Seriously. You have to do something like that, you know? To get all the bad feelings out. Just a big cry or something, at the end of the week, to make yourself feel better."

He blinked. Then, softly, he said, "You know, people always told me that you were a bit off, but-"

"It's normal."

"I just don't like it," he said with a shake of his head. "At all. That you get that...sad or whatever. That you feel that way. Especially if I'm the one doing it to you. Or Shane-"

"It's not just you and Shane. It's...everything. That's how I deal with things," she explained. "I write them down in my journal-"

"Your what?"

"-and then sulk about them alone, for a few hours-"

"Have you ever thought about, you know, telling someone more qualified about all this?"

"It's not a big deal."

Letting out a long sigh, he rolled then, onto his back, and Steph hated that she hadn't nuzzled into his hand at least once before he removed it.

"Can't you do something else?" he asked, lulling his head to the side so that he could still watch her. "Other than that? It's so...weird."

"It's not weird though. You're just making it that way. I mean, even if it was just a one time thing and something Shane did seriously hurt me, crying about it once, late at night, alone, isn't something for you to go and harass my brother about."

"I didn't harass him."

"Shane said that you barged into his hotel room and cornered him-"

"Well, Shane's dramatic, so-"

"You're the one that caused all this."

"Me?"

"You."

"You should know how protective I am over you."

He watched her blush a bit before she asked, "Why's that?"

"'cause you're mine." Rolling his head back, he stared at the ceiling then. Neither had ever turned on a light and, with the sun just barely coming up, the room was still rather shadowy. "I don't like you being upset. It's not some big complicated thing."

"Hey, we're gonna talk about that too."

He made a face when she moved closer. Voicing this, he said, "You know, there's not a lot of room on this bed to begin with. So-"

"You're not in control of me. What was that anyways?" She rested a hand on his chest, pushing up some so that she could look down at his face. "The little fit you threw. Like I was defying you or something by having an opinion."

"You had more than an opinion. You literally yelled at me for half an hour until I finally defended myself-"

"You told me to either submit to you or get out of this relationship."

"And I stand by that."

"Paul-"

"I didn't say that, anyways," he complained. "Exactly. Or at least it's not what I meant. I was just pissed off. You were hounding me and I-"

"Then what did you mean?"

"Just that… Fuck it." He sat up rather suddenly and, in response, Steph fell back a bit, onto the bed once more. He ignored the face she made and, instead, only said, "You know what? I did mean it. Not in some sort of chauvinistic, I'm in constant control of you kind of way. Whenever you have a pair of people, there's always going to be one that's over the other. That's just part of it. And I am that person when it comes to you and me."

"In what way?" Steph complained, but only a bit before he was the one leaning over her then and she didn't want to screw that up. "Because I would say that I have way more control over you than you do me."

"Oh, is that what you'd say?"

"Yes."

"That's part of it," he agreed. "That you get that stupid little power play out of it. And I let you. For little stupid shit. You can feel whatever way you want when it comes to things that I don't care about. But when it's something important, when it has to do with our relationship, I make the decisions. It's, at best, twenty-five seventy-five."

"You're full of it."

"You like it," he accused then as his head bowed a bit and they both stared darkly at one another. "You like when I tell you what to do. You liked it when I was arguing over you with your father. You like it whenever I decide what we're doing that day. You like when I tell you that you're either in with me or you're out."

"What about you then?" And some of his hair fell down then, tickling her face. Grabbing the few strands, she tugged on them just to make him scowl. "You like ordering me around?"

He shrugged as best he could from the position that he was in. "It's whatever to me, honestly. I just don't listen to you and your dumb opinions on important things. Sue me- Steph, stop that hurts."

She'd tugged his hair again, a bit harder that time. "Yeah, I'm aware."

"It's complex, alright?" He slapped her hand away finally, pinning it down to the bed in hopes it would keep his head from being assaulted once more. "The whole thing."

"The dissect it."

"I tried. Then you pulled my hair."

"Because you were being an ass."

"Something else you like, so quit playing."

"What exactly is in my twenty-five percent of control?"

Again, she got the best shrug he could give. "You seem to like picking where we go on most dates. I don't mind pretending to watch your dumb movies. I don't gripe when you choose the music half the time in he car. You can-"

"And what do you get to decide? That's so important then?" She tried to lift the hand he had pinned down, so that she could poke him in the chest with it, but he refused to release it. "Other than who can and can't make me cry?"

"I decide when we go out places together. When we stay over at one another's places. When we share a hotel room. When we fuck. When we watch those movies you get to choose. When-"

"I don't agree," she complained then. "With any off that."

"But that's the beauty of it, Stephie," he assured her. "You don't have to. Before last night, you didn't even realize it was happening. You, apparently, lived in this bubble world where, somehow, you thought you were the one in control. So just let the curtain get pulled back up and let the Wizard get back to controlling Oz, yeah?"

"I think," she said as he slacked his grip a bit and, wiggling her hand free, she moved to press it against his chest as he was shifting to get over her better, "that you're just full of shit. And that you said that last night because you were angry with me and that you know, as well as I do, that I really control everything. At best, it's me eighty percent, you fifteen, and a fiver in there left to pure chance."

"A fiver, Steph?"

"A fiver, Paul."

For a moment, they just stared at one another. Then, softly, Paul spoke.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah." She was whispering too, just from the influence of him doing so. "What?"

"When I came over, and you were crying-"

"Can't we move on from-"

"-I interrupted you, right?" he asked. "So you didn't get to finish...decompressing or whatever? But once I got there, and we...after, we were sitting on the couch and you told me all about Shane and all that shit. Was that not a way to decompress too? Because you said that you're fine now, right? With the whole thing? Even though you haven't had a chance to cry about it again? So talking to me about it was...kinda like crying, right?"

"What's your point?"

"I just… If I'm the one making you upset enough that you gotta cry about it or whatever," he said with a shake of his head, "then I would rather that, you know, you just wait and talk to me about it. About any of it. Can't you do that? Even about Shane shit. Or your dad. Or anyone. And not get so upset. Wouldn't that be decompressing? I mean, I dunno, maybe you don't feel that way, but-"

"Why?" She gave him a look. "So that you can threaten the person and make more problems?"

"I shouldn't have gone and talked to Shane. There. Is that what you want me to say?"

"Well, I don't know, because unless it's what you want me to want you to say, as my ruler and everything in this relationship, I don't think-"

"I really fucking hate you." He wasn't over her anymore, instead falling back, once more, onto his back. "A lot of the time. Why are we together?"

Giggling, Stephanie sat up. "Maybe you're not as in control of things as you want to think, Paul."

He'd tossed a hand over his eyes but, peeking through the space between his fingers, he stared up at his girlfriend. "I'd say that's pretty accurate for the both of us."

"You know that you would hate it, Paul, if all I ever did was tell you all my problems," she said in a bit more seriousness. "You can't play like you wouldn't."

"If I'm being honest with you-"

"Perhaps a bit too much, these past few days."

"-I already thought that you shared everything with me," Paul said. "I mean, even when we're not around one another, you call me what feels like once a day and just dump all that stuff on me. Are you seriously keeping in even more?"

"A lot," she replied, "more."

"I mean...maybe crying isn't so bad then."

She shoved him for it, but Paul was grinning then and, with his free hand, reached out for her. Falling into his tugs, she fell to his chest, getting a bit of an 'oof' out of the man before, for a number of moments, they had pure silence.

Then,

"You're calling my brother, by the way. To apologize?"

"Fuck you."

"Excuse you?"

"Excuse you," he corrected. "Tell me who to apologize to. Who do you think you are? Did we not just go over the whole order of command?"

"How about this one?" Palm pressed flat to his chest, she shoved up a bit to stare into his eyes. As he only blinked, she said, "You make up with my brother or else."

"What's the else?"

"Same as your little power trip last night," she decided. "You either do it or, you know, we're over or whatever."

"Or whatever."

"See how absurd you sounded now?" she asked.

"Mmmm, I definitely see how you're already buckling under the idea of us breaking up, but sure, why not?"

"You're doing it." His chest got a pat then before she leaned up to press a kiss to his lip. Then, against them, she added, "And we're not going to have this issue again."

"Only because this falls into the twenty-five percent."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself."

And he did do it. He kind of had to. Steph wanted to go out to breakfast that morning and oh, wow, who would have thought? She some how accidentally, but definitely on purpose invited Shane. What were the odds?

"I mean," Steph griped back as Paul chewed her out over tricking him, back in the car, "you had to do it eventually. You guys have to be on good terms. Not just for our life together, but your life in the company too, right? Being on the outs with Vince's son wins you nothing."

"Can Shane captivate an audience with mere words? Keep them on their feet, chanting his name and catchphrase?" Not taking his eyes off the road, he answered himself with, "Yeah, didn't think so."

"Do eventual bosses have to do that?" she asked. "I thought that was just lowly, talent positions that did."

"Lowly." Snorting, he said, "I'll have you know my position right now is right where I want it. Got everything I need."

"Other than benefits."

"But you gotta wear suits, I think, and that's just not my style."

"Suits, security. Suits, security."

"You see the dilemma."

"If it makes you feel better," she offered, "I really don't see that option being posed to you."

"That's kinda hurtful," he complained as he left one hand on the steering wheel and let the other drift a bit, to fall on her leg. "But you know, I'm not as rude and dream crushing as you are."

"I mean, is it really your dream when the dress code is what makes you reconsider it?"

"Which is why I'll tell you that I see real potential in you, kid."

"Sleeping with me one minute and calling me kid the next is kinda gross. And inappropriate. If not out of bounds purely because it's inaccurate."

"Maybe, even, enough potential to surpass your brother some day? Hmm?"

He posed it as a question, and made a bit of a face as he glanced at her for a moment while Stephanie only made an irritated one back at him.

"Sure," she agreed. "We literally had a Women's Championship match hinged on which woman could strip the other down to her bra and panties first-"

"I would fall on a sword to make sure every women's champ match had that stipulation."

"-would have a woman as its figurehead. Or in a high amount of power."

"Your mother has a high amount of power."

"My mother is married to my father."

"You got me there." He patted her leg. "Now get to work on the bra and panty match for every match thing."

"This is my car. I could kick you out of it at any moment."

"But then you'd have to drive yourself," he pointed out. "And get lost on the way to the arena. Like a fucking woman."

"Why are we talking about this again?" She finally shoved his hand off her leg. "Other than you're the supreme ruler over our relationship or something?"

"You know, I don't like your tone when you said that last part there."

"Oh, you didn't?"

"At all, Steph."

"You gonna threaten to break up with me again over it?"

"After planting the seed of dissension against your family in your head? Fuck no." As he came to a stop at a red light, he glanced over at her to wag his eyebrows. "I'm riding my gravy train to the top. Everyone things I'm doing this to, you know, get in with your father. Fuck that. I'm pumping you up, not pimping you out."

Rolling her eyes, she sank down a bit, in her seat, turning to glance out the window. "I think you got a long ride then, if that's what you're waiting for."

"I can wait," he assured her. "You know how boring my life was before I cooked up this multi level scheme?"

"Boring enough to cook up this multi level scheme," she answered to which he grinned.

"You know though," he added as the light changed and his eyes fell to the road once more. "The company has taught me more than just how much I like watching women throw one another around in the ring in attempts to get the other one down to their undergarments."

"But not much, right?"

Shrugging, he said, "Enough. Enough to know that when you hatch a multi level scheme that involves schmoozing, boozing, cruising, and never not once losing-"

"I didn't know rhyming was a part of it as well, but-"

"-the one thing that you can't ever allow to happen, not even once," he went right on, "is to start to, you know, start feeling shit for the other person. Any person, really, but especially the person you're scamming."

Finally, she grinned a bit as her eyes fell over to him. "Is that what you learned?

"Mmmhmm. Hunter hasn't been good for a lot- Well, he has, but for the sake of the argument, he definitely taught me that you can't fall, you know, in love or whatever."

"You think Hunter is?"

"I think Hunter was." He tsked. "Terrible thing about it. Fucks with your heart, your heart fucks with your head, and damn, now everything's gone to shit."

"You're such a poet," she remarked. "Why don't you ever write me poetry?"

"Because that's part of it, Steph. You know, we have some great fun together and everything, but I just can't say it."

"Say it?"

"You know. That I love you."

"You can't?"

"Nope. Not even after I hurt you real deep by making up some dumb shit about me being in charge of our relationship and you having to fallen in line or else all because I got my feelings hurt that you were choosing your brother over me which, yes, I realized was dumb and that you wouldn't do the same to me and my sister, but hey. I'm human."

"You also talk a lot."

"Weird." He glanced over at her, noting how her cheeks were reddening and she couldn't look at him anymore. "I never get that with anyone else."

"Are you also trying to con and scam them though?"

"I long con everyone I meet," he assured her. "You know, in real life, I'm actually an upstanding gentleman that everyone thinks highly of. My real personality is actually pretty saintly. Not a bragger at all, either."

"I've never met that Paul."

"Really?"

"Mmmmm, don't think so," she said after shaking her head a bit. "Would he write his girlfriend poetry?"

"Probably even have told her that he loved her by now."

"Would he be so corny about it?"

"Only if he knew she'd like it."

"Maybe she doesn't."

"Maybe she's a liar."

"Maybe so is he."

"Long con," he agreed. "The longest con."

"I love you too, you know."

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "I know, Steph. I know."


End file.
